


The One with the Russian Vodka

by felicityollies



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Exes, F/M, Mild Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:18:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7939468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felicityollies/pseuds/felicityollies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>late night, russian vodka, and a mistake</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One with the Russian Vodka

**Author's Note:**

> because stephen’s headcanons are always fun to write (:

Felicity let out a long sigh as she took out her ear piece for the night. Cleaning up Star City had been a lot harder than either of them had anticipated. They were short several team members, leaving the both of them to do most of the work. It had been this way for a little over three months. Vigilantes were cropping up all over the city, but Oliver continued to work on the streets alone. She wished that he wouldn't, but he was more than a little hardheaded about certain things.

"Another budding gang taken out," he said as he entered the bunker. 

"Yep," she pushed herself from her desk. 

Sometimes it was still difficult to be around him like this. She wanted to be there and wanted to help both him and the city, but constantly being around her ex-fiancé was a different kind of stress. 

"You look tired," he mumbled, unzipping his suit. 

She shook her head, "I'm alright," she said quietly. 

Her gaze moved down his chest for a quick moment. Okay, what was wrong with her tonight? She was usually better than this. Clearing her throat, she turned her head away from him and let him change in peace. 

Even before they were together she had a bad habit of observing and enjoying his physique, making it a hard habit to break now that they weren't together. Especially on those days when he trained for hours. Sweat rolling down his chest and abs as he worked with the dummy or clang clang clanged on the salmon ladder. It wasn't just his body that she missed. She missed him, being with him in both intimate and non-intimate ways. It was complete torture some days. 

"You sure you're okay?" Oliver asked. 

Her gaze moved upward again. "Yep." Thank god he had a t-shirt on this time. "I just need a drink." 

"Me too," he sighed and dug around for his bottle of vodka. 

He poured the both of them a substantial glass. She eyed hers for a moment before deciding to say fuck it and just drink it. Oliver raised his glass and muttered something in Russian. She had no idea why he did that or what it meant, but it didn't matter. She raised her own glass and proceeded to knock back everything in the glass. 

"I guess you really did need a drink." 

She laughed, "Sorry." 

"Don't be," he poured her some more. "You want to talk about it?" 

"About?" 

"Whatever's bothering you." 

He could still read her too well. She shook her head. "I'm really okay." 

"Mhmm," he took a sip of his own drink. 

She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't sass me, mister." 

He laughed, "I would never." 

"Mhmmmm," she laughed. 

She finished her second glass, dragging her tongue across her bottom lip. A warmth settled in her stomach and slowly spread throughout. She was definitely already buzzed. It never took very long to get drunk, but this stuff was strong. 

Deciding to take it slower, she watched Oliver down a few glasses vodka while they talked about their days. That was also a bad idea. Her eyes were on his lips and neck, watching him swallow. She sighed and tilted her head up to look at the ceiling. 

"Don't even think about it," she said. 

"Think about what?" 

"Asking me if I'm okay again," she looked back to him. 

"Hard not to." 

She sighed. "Less talking more drinking," she pushed her glass towards him. 

He shook his head, but thankfully obliged her. 

"How many glasses is this?" she asked. 

"Three for you... and…" he narrowed his eyes at his own glass, "I have no idea." 

She snorted. "That's terrible." 

They sipped at their drinks again, talking about the mayor's office and how that was going. It wasn't going the best, but Oliver's main focus hadn't been on his mayoral duties. 

"You know," she slurred, "I'm still proud of you for trying at this mayoring thing." 

"Thanks," he started to slur as well. 

"You could be the best damn mayor," she smacked her hand on the table, "And the hottest." 

Oliver laughed. "You really think so?" 

"That would be a double yes," she dragged out the last word. 

When she finished her glass, she pushed herself up from the round table, but didn't make it very far. She stumbled, nearly falling over before Oliver reached out grab her. 

"Well jeez," she mumbled, holding onto him. 

One hand gripped onto his bicep and the other rest on his chest. She realized just how close they were; their faces only inches apart. Her inebriated brain only had one idea. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. 

He didn't hesitate in kissing her back. It was a sloppy kiss; wet and needy. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, their bodies pressed together. All she wanted in that moment was to be close to him. She needed more. 

"Oliver," she breathed out. 

"Do you want me to stop?" 

"No," she said quickly, "I want more." 

He nodded and carefully lifted her so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. Oliver carried her to his cot. It wasn't the best place to do this, but she couldn't care less. In the very back of her mind she knew this was a bad idea, but at the same time she hoped that she could fuck her need for him out of her system. 

Clothes were ripped from their bodies in haste. She was already wet and ready for him. Her body ached to be touched. Oliver wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked a couple of times before lining up with her entrance. 

As he pressed in, she let out a low groan. It had been so long, too long. She kept her legs wrapped around him. He began to thrust quick and rough. She rolled her hips up to meet his thrusts. 

"Oh god," she groaned. 

Every thrust was filled with desire. 

"Felicity," he moaned. 

Oliver thrust harder, almost erratically. 

She slid her fingers down between them and found her clit. Rubbing quickly, hoping to push herself over the edge. 

"Fuck," he hissed. 

She felt her orgasm building and building. A dull ache between her legs and a throb of her clit signaled just how close she was. 

"Oh god, Oliver!" 

Her body trembled and her walls clenched around his cock. Oliver's movements didn't slow as he came. He shook on top of her, refusing to stop until he had ridden them both through their climaxes. 

"Fuck," he whispered again. 

She panted heavily, slumping back into his cot. He pulled out and moved to lie down beside her. For a few moments the only sound that could be heard was their breathing. Felicity felt satisfied and exhausted. Still drunk all she wanted now was sleep. 

She rolled over and snuggled into Oliver. It was too much effort to give anything else a second thought. He pulled a blanket over them and wrapped his arms around her. 

She managed to sleep peacefully for several hours, but when she woke she felt a sick feeling settling in her stomach. Both hangover nausea and a sickness from what she had done. Her stomach twisted, making her wince. 

Oliver had his arm wrapped around her middle, his face buried her hair. His breathing was so gentle that she didn't have the heart to move. 

She didn't know why she had done this. Didn't know why she thought it had been a good idea. She couldn't fuck her feelings for Oliver away, especially not with him. All she wanted was to feel good and to get some of it out of her system, but it didn't happen. 

She might have felt good for a couple hours, satisfied at least, but now she felt… guilty. This was only going to hurt her and Oliver in the end. "Don't go," Oliver whispered in his sleep. 

She knew he hadn't woken, but it still made her heart ache. He held onto her tighter and nuzzled his face against her back. 

She let out a shaky breath, "I'm sorry."

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what y'all think!


End file.
